10
The Hierarchy of Dimensions
While the “organic” universe is constructed from four basic orders of “intelligence,” hermetic theory tells us that this creature must exist within the framework of an octave, that is, of seven, or even eight, dimensions. Most people recognize only the three dimensions of space and perhaps the fourth dimension of time, a greater “line” along which everything moves, as it were, in the direction of eternity. But the true picture, as we shall see, may be much wider in perspective, much more holistic than the reality we ordinarily perceive.
Let’s start at the beginning, with the zero dimension, which in geometry would be defined as a finite point. If this point were to move in any direction, it would trace a line. A line is a one-dimensional entity and can be defined by its length only. Two dimensions would unfold if, for example, the whole line were to move in a sideways motion, so tracing a plane, having both length and breadth. Similarly, three dimensions would be described if the whole plane were to move in any direction at an angle to its surface, thus tracing a solid, with length, breadth, and height. We ourselves, at our most basic level, are three-dimensional entities, and so are the familiar sense-objects that make up our world.
As we see, a greater dimension unfolds every time a new direction is described. A moving point describes a line, a moving line describes a plane, a moving plane describes a three-dimensional solid.
Now all three-dimensional objects are also, in a sense, moving in another quite different direction. They are all getting progressively older, they are all existing along their line of time, their fourth dimension. This is the highest dimension that can be perceived in our ordinary states of consciousness. Hermetic theory, however, calls for at least seven of these expanding spheres, so in order to identify these otherworlds, we obviously need to stretch our imaginations somewhat and reach out beyond the realm of sense experience. Physicists have already paved the way in their attempts to conceptualize the next dimension up from the line of time. This is the curious realm of the quantum, the nonlocal arena of inner space existing beyond ordinary time. We can describe it in simplified terms as the dimension that would unfold if the line of time were somehow to move in a direction perpendicular to itself, so tracing a greater “plane.” This is the fifth dimension, the “plane of light” discussed in earlier chapters.
We have seen how the first three spatial dimensions describe a line, a plane, and a solid. And if, as hermetic theory says, “above” is intrinsically the same as “below,” with a difference only in scale, then we should expect a similar relationship to exist between the higher dimensions. Therefore, if the fourth dimension of time is a “line” and the fifth, the nonlocal sphere, is a “plane,” then the boundaries of the sixth would define what we might call the “solid” form of the ultimate reality.
One might assume that this cosmic hierarchy of dimensions must end with the sixth, but we have already established that, if the cosmos is hermetic, it must be structured as a fundamental octave, so one would consequently expect the hierarchy of dimensions to reflect this order. We can therefore make one final conceptual leap by positing a seventh sphere, which could be defined as the medium in which the whole universal phenomenon exists. Paradoxically, however, this seventh dimension could lead us right back to the very (zero) point from which we started, for in such a reality, even the “medium” in which the universe exists (its street, city, planet, or whatever else might constitute its “space”) might simply be the equivalent of a finite point in an unimaginably greater sphere.
We thus have seven interpenetrating dimensions coiling one out of another in ever-increasing spheres, beginning with a point and ending on a point. If we now remember that an octave also begins and ends on the same note, we can see that the hierarchy of dimensions fits in perfectly with the hermetic description of the universe.
Now that we have a relatively ordered picture of this seven-dimensional “ladder,” we can try to ascertain our position within it. I hope readers will find this at the very least an interesting intellectual exercise and, at best, perhaps a way of understanding that, hidden deep within our nature, we human beings do in fact have a deep and profound affinity with the wider universe.
We can begin with one of the basic premises of hermetic theory, which says that what is above is the same as that which is below. Taken quite literally, this means that all of us are microcosmic copies of the universe itself—“images of God.”
If this is so, then this miniature universe of “galactic” or chromosomal life forms must exist within the framework of seven dimensions, the equivalent of three spatial dimensions, one of time, and three more ascending spheres, corresponding to the “plane of light,” the “solid of reality,” and, finally, the inexpressible seventh dimension, the “medium” in which the whole exists.
Now if chromosomal DNA is the microcosmic equivalent of the double helix of the mind, we can say that, like the brain, it is housed in a three-dimensional structure living in its own dimension of time and that there must be other dimensions existing above and below it. Below the three-and four-dimensional scale of DNA, an intelligent, organic molecule, we have the scale of the much smaller inorganic molecule. The difference between inorganic and organic is vast. They are literally a dimension apart, and so we can consider the inorganic molecule as a relative manifestation of a two-dimensional plane. Moving on down, we come to the atomic scale, the equivalent, perhaps, of a one-dimensional line. Finally we have the chromodynamic scale of the electron and other subatomic waves and particles—points in space.
We now come to the dimensions above these chromosomal life forms, the dimensions existing beyond their space and time.
To identify these we need first to consider the overall lifetime of this miniature universe—that is, the human being—and the huge developmental leap from the DNA double helix to the double helix of the mind. All of this takes place in time, at least from the atomic scale upward. (Subatomic quanta, remember, exist in a timeless, nonlocal, zero dimension.)
Obviously DNA’s scale of time is vastly more compacted than the timescale of the conscious human being. The cell is born, it works frantically all its life, and then it dies, or rather divides, in a matter of hours, days, or weeks. But of course its influences—its genes—live on through the chromosomes, endlessly dividing and multiplying for several decades. If the single cell could have any conception of its own time and, like us, speculate beyond its own experiential existence, several decades would seem to it like an eternity. And if some form of superior microcosmic intelligence were to suggest to the cell that its “soul,” after death, or division, would in fact live for eternity, this humble little grafter might find such a notion a shade fanciful. And yet, this is precisely what does happen. The cell’s influences, its genes, continue to be passed on through millions and billions of generations of other cells until the greater organism—its “universal host”—ultimately expires. Thus we might say that the body of the host organism not only represents a higher dimension for the cell, it is also one into which the cell can actively input evolutionary data. Let’s call this dimension the chromosome’s equivalent of the plane of light, the timeless, “eternal” fifth dimension.
The sixth dimension of our miniature universe, like the “solid” form of the ultimate reality described earlier, must be of an order infinitely greater and more complex than the fifth, planelike sphere—that is, the greater physical body inhabited by all of the organism’s cells. It would be a dimension that would unfold if an entirely new direction were taken, that is, if all the cells in the body of a living organism were to combine and expand in some way, as a line expands into a plane and a plane into a solid. This, I would suggest, is where the consciousness of the organism kicks in, where the double helix of the mind, the ultimate creation of DNA, is finally formed. Clearly creation of the conscious mind of this miniature universe is a genuine transcendental phenomenon, existing and evolving in an infinitely higher scale of being to that of the single cell. This would be the cell’s sixth dimension. To this higher conscious mind, the “eternity” of the individual cell, or the sum of all the lives of all of its body’s cells, is perceived as but a single lifetime. What is more, the mind of this greater being, the cell’s “god,” possesses self-awareness and is fully conscious, not only of its own physical existence (which is the entire universe to the cell), but also of its environment, of its world at large and, perhaps, of other beings similar to it. From the perspective of the cell, therefore, this inexpressible environment, the home of its microcosmic universe, would be the seventh-dimensional medium in which its sixth-dimensional god exists.
As we see, the seven dimensions unfolding in the biomolecular world are related in the same way as the greater universal framework of dimensions described earlier: point to line, line to plane, plane to solid, then further on to a greater “line,” a greater “plane,” a greater “solid,” and, finally, a “medium” in which the whole exists.
If we now apply the DNA model to the greater scale of existence of the human brain, then we can say that the successful “genes” created by the double helix of the mind—its ideas or concepts—exactly like the genes of the individual chromosome, can in fact last for “eternity”; that is, they can exist in the fifth dimension, on the timeless plane of light, or within the collective consciousness of the entire human race. Genes can do that; they can permeate through to every cell in the body. Likewise, objective concepts can do exactly the same thing; they can permeate through to every other conscious mind on the planet. More importantly, however, if the theory of transcendental evolution holds true, such concepts would also in the process be actively contributing toward the creation of an infinitely greater, universal consciousness.
So “God” is a six-dimensional entity. And so, in a very real sense, are you; only the scale is different. But, of course, this mighty macrocosmic being would be six-dimensional only to us. From the perspective of the DNA strand or that of the individual cell, our “God” would represent six dimensions squared, which means that the “medium” in which the universe exists would represent seven dimensions squared. Add to this the eighth—point zero—and we arrive at our now familiar hermetic concept, which holds that the ultimate creative element is the product of the square of the constant.
So far we have identified two coexistent and interpenetrating “universes,” the one in which the cell exists and the greater universe in which we ourselves exist. DNA forms the nucleus of a cell in the body of its six-dimensional “universe”—the human being—and the double helix of the mind is the nucleus of a cell in the body of a greater six-dimensional universe existing as some godlike being of inexpressible form and character.
Now, just as the double helix of the mind evolved from the cumulative work of hundreds of billions of cells and chromosomes, then we would expect a similar process to develop in the next scale of evolution, the scale of the solar helix already posited. So as the solar body grows out of our concepts, a higher six-dimensional “mind” should eventually evolve from it. This would be the “mind” of our perceived “universe,” our God. But this solar mind, like DNA and the human mind, must also be a “chromosome,” a creative, organic intelligence existing in the nucleus of a cell in the body of its “universe,” in the next scale up, the scale of the galactic helix. And again, if the whole is developing hermetically, then ultimately an even greater “six-dimensional” galactic “mind” would evolve, presumably functioning as a “chromosome” in the greatest scale of them all—the “body” of its universe.
Thus each scale has its own “universe,” and they are all inextricably interconnected, each being six-dimensional in relation to the one below it, each living and evolving in a seven-dimensional arena.
TIME: A ONE-WAY TICKET?
As we have noted, it is possible to differentiate between dimensions in terms of their relative times. The individual cell’s time, for example, is very much more compacted than the time of the human being. The “eternity” of the cell, or the sum total of all the lives of all the cells within organisms like you or me, is equivalent to a normal human life-time. Similarly the time of the human being must be equally compacted in relation to the timescale of the solar being, to whom our “eternity” would likewise be perceived as but a single lifetime. By the same token, the lifetimes of all solar beings—their “eternity”—would be a single lifetime to the galactic being, whose own “eternity,” the sum of the life-times of all galaxies everywhere, would in turn represent the lifetime of its god, the ultimate universal entity.
Time, therefore, is variable, relative. But what is it exactly? Is it something that flows like a metaphysical river, gathering up everything in its wake? Or is the whole phenomenon, as mystics and shaman have always believed, simply an illusion? According to the experimentally verifiable theories of modern physics, of course, the shaman and priests have been right all along; time doesn’t really exist. If you were able to travel at the speed of light, the “river” of time would apparently cease to flow. At least, that’s how the scientist sees it. But hermetic theory hints at another possible scenario. It suggests, in fact, that this state of timelessness described by the physicist is also an illusion of sorts: the “river” still flows but at a rate so lacking in apparent motion as to be imperceptible through ordinary scientific investigation.
The speed of light, or the speed of the constant, defines the boundary between dimensions four and five, between the time dimension and the plane of light, where time as we know it slows down to a virtual standstill. Therefore speed, or rate of vibration, is the key. The faster you move, or the quicker you “vibrate,” the slower time flows and, relatively speaking, the longer you live.
Now, if reaching the constant speed of light would gain us entry into the fifth dimension, one might suppose that the even higher sphere, the sixth, could be accessed in much the same way, but with one crucial difference—the “velocity” barrier, or the required rate of “vibrations,” would no longer be the speed of the constant, but rather the square of it. This is no arbitrary choice of measure, of course. As we noted previously, it is one that is very subtly encoded in the Magic Square of Mercury, which in turn was associated with the Great Pyramid, known in ancient times as “The Lights,” or “Lights-measures.”
We have now made our way up to the penultimate sixth dimension and the timescale of the galaxy. So what happens here? Presumably time would still flow, albeit at a rate we can only describe as a virtual standstill squared.
From here we have one dimension to go, the ultimate seventh, the medium in which the whole exists. How fast would we have to move, or to resonate, in order to look out through the eyes of God into his seven-dimensional Garden of Eden? Once again, hermetic theory can provide us with a plausible answer: the cosmos is a highly ordered musical entity, and so the characteristic “vibrations” of each dimension must be harmoniously related to each other. Therefore if the plane of light is accessed through the velocity of light and the solid of reality is accessed through the square of the velocity of light, then the seventh dimension, the medium in which this “solid” exists, might reasonably be expected to unfold at the cube of this velocity. Here, “time” would truly stand still, and genuine nonlocality would be a living reality.
A BRIEF RETROSPECTIVE
Confused? To be perfectly honest, so am I. Frequently. But then we are trying to come to terms with the imponderable here, and leftbrain logic alone can take us only so far in the quest for the ultimate reality. Eventually, it seems, we have somehow to experience this multidimensional reality for ourselves, and such experiences, as scientists are now aware, invariably involve a certain amount of intuitive insight. Unfortunately, this power, which might be considered the modern equivalent of the shamanistic vision, is a faculty that tends to appear only in sparse, random bursts. You cannot sit down and willfully intuit your way out of an intellectual maze; it just seems to happen. But these intuitive moments, these “macromutations” of the human mind, are essential to our evolutionary progress; they are the very life-blood of consciousness. Therefore not only should we pay heed to them, we should at all times be looking for possible ways to cultivate the soil in which they grow and thereby bring about an increase in their yield. The shaman uses mindaltering agents to induce such states; the mystic uses intense study, objective psychology, and rigorous discipline; the scientist simply relies on chance—hence the fragmentary nature of our accumulated knowledge.
As a consequence, the evolutionary process I am trying to envisage, with its plethora of scales and dimensions, very probably falls a long way short of the complete intuitive picture perceived by the originators of hermetic theory. I have personally had many vivid glimpses of this picture and have often felt overwhelmed at the sheer enormity of the implications of the central concept. At other times I have thought otherwise, that perhaps I might have lost the plot somewhere along the line and recklessly allowed myself to be carried along on the wings of my imagination. After all, who am I to pronounce on the theory of everything? What gives me the right to probe the disciplined mind of the modern evolutionist, the nuclear physicist, the theologian, even God himself? Am I not simply wasting my time dreaming up imaginary, incomprehensible worlds, when there are more practical things to do?
These and many other such thoughts have intermittently plagued me for years, but deep down I have maintained a conviction that the Hermetic Code is much bigger than me or my critics—or indeed all of us—and that it will forever continue to exert its influence on human consciousness irrespective of our individual prejudices and subjective experiences. I am therefore strongly inclined to come down squarely on the side of those who created this remarkable belief system, a genuine science, possibly the most highly evolved of Earth’s inhabitants. These great visionaries were not only in tune with what Schwaller de Lubicz called “all the harmonies and energies of the universe,” they were also profoundly altruistic and deeply concerned about the future development of mankind and of evolution per se. This is why they went to such great lengths to transmit their knowledge of the sacred laws of nature, because they knew that without it, without a clear understanding of the unity of everything, we should never be able to handle what lies ahead. And so the Hermetic Code is their legacy, a genuine seed of wisdom sown in distant times, whose “genes” have permeated the entire body of human consciousness. Not only does it explain exactly how and why the evolutionary process unfolds as it does, it also lets us as humans know how we can become a conscious part of it all, a truly remarkable gift to one’s successors.
So the universe, as the ancient Greek initiates were saying two and a half thousand years ago, is hermetic throughout, very much alive, the direct organic result of some great cosmic act of procreation. We must therefore assume that, like all organic creatures, this great cosmic entity will eventually die. Scientific theory generally supports this view, i.e., that the universe was conceived, that it is growing at an unprecedented rate, that it will eventually reach its prime, and then start aging, eventually to dissipate all its energy throughout space and time in a long, slow burnout.
But of course death, according to hermetic theory, is not just the final “note” of one’s personal evolutionary scale, it is also the first “note” of the greater scale above, the beginning, as it were, of a new, higher level of existence. The creators of the Hermetic Code, for example, died, like all of us must, but as we can all bear witness, their knowledge, their spirit, their higher selves, have lived on.
So let’s suppose that the universe is destined to perish in what scientists see as a long, slow “heat-death.” Will that really be the end of everything, as cosmologists predict? Or will the process of evolution extend yet further, as the universe’s “higher self” transcends to greater things? Obviously on this point hermetic theory represents something of a departure from the scientific position, because it calls for an ongoing organic scenario, where the evolutionary processes above and below are seen as essentially the same.
These two opposing views might seem currently irreconcilable but, as we shall see in the following chapter, both theories, ancient and modern, conform to the same cosmic design. The main distinction between them lies in the fact that cosmological theory, like Darwinian theory, is concerned primarily with the physical body of the “organism,” whereas the hermetic theory of transcendental evolution offers a much more holistic view, one that allows for the natural death of the physical body, but which in addition takes into account the wider, external influences created by the individual in life.
So now we find that the universe itself is also an “individual,” and that it has definite and unique characteristics. As we noted earlier, galaxy distribution is not strictly homogeneous, which means that the “body” of the universe is lumpy and uneven like yours, the “seeds” of this design having been identified in slight variations in the background radiation left over from the big bang. As an individual, therefore, the universe, like you and me, may have a destiny as well as a fate. Fate is the inevitable lot of all organic creatures; it locks them into an irresistible life–death cycle that is beyond the individual’s control. Destiny, however, is a potential, a future something that is developed and determined in an individual’s lifetime and that is associated with the “higher self.” In the case of the universe, we see that its fate is acknowledged by science, but that its destiny is left completely out of the picture. The next chapter is an attempt to rectify this imbalance by examining the established scientific viewpoint specifically in the light of hermetic theory. As we shall see, this exercise leads to some very interesting and rather startling conclusions.